Lonely, Sad, Damaged, Broken, Gone
by TheZeldakid101
Summary: Green hates mirrors. Why? They remind him too much of those he lost. They all left. He's alone now. Why should he stay? Angst, Tragedy, and a whopping four character deaths. Four. T for character death and dark themes. Long oneshot. Four Swords Plus. AU. Probably the darkest, longest piece I've written, ever. Read and review!


**The loneliest people are the kindest. The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they don't want to see others suffer the way they do.**

 **In truth, the loneliest, saddest, and most damaged people end up breaking not only themselves, but everyone around them.**

 **This is that truth.**

 **Suggested music: Fi's Farewell, Skyward Sword**

-;-;-;-;-

Green hated mirrors.

The stupid, stupid, _stupid_ pieces of metal made him stare at himself, at his selves, and he hated them. All six had met painful demises. The first was shoved out his window; the second, hit with a slingshot and a hammer; the third, his sword had sliced through; the fourth had been slammed against the tile wall; the fifth had met its end by Green's own knuckles. The sixth was in front of him, impaled on the post on the end of the bed.

He stole a single glance down at the tiny pieces of melted sand that littered the floor around him and caught a glance of his eyes, eyes that had once been a pure, cobalt blue. At least, he thought they were. It was strange how eyes could change after seeing too much for their time. The once innocent, happy blue was now a battle-hardened, piercing mix of gray and blue, leaning on the gray, and Green couldn't help but think that he'd once known someone with eyes like that, that had been damaged for the majority of the time he knew him...

-;-;-;-;-

It was the Purple Link that started the chain of sorrow.

The Four Sword was sitting, waiting above its pedestal, and yet it was never put back. The Maidens had rushed into the Sanctuary seconds before, calling out to the Four Heroes, telling them things about shadows and survival and mirrors-

And only Vio reacted, dropping the golden hilt of the sword held in his grasp and crying out a word, over and over and over, running past the Maidens and out of the room and out of the halls and into the castle and into that room, that horribly dark, dark room. And he was the only one who could clearly see the figure on the bed, in the dark, dark room where the windows were painted in three layers of black and the only light was from a candle, he was the only one at first who knew who it was, and when the others reached him he was already talking with him, and Shadow was there, and alive, and Vio was happier than they'd seen him, and-

Then he was gone.

It took even the smart one a while to realize it. Shadow was there, he had somehow, through divine intervention, survived the crack of the mirror that tied him to life itself, but at the same time he wasn't. When he spoke, he spoke with the same familiar, familiar snarky attitude Vio knew him for, but it still took him a few days to learn that the words - every one of them, even the ones full of laughter, even the ones where he called them all his brothers - even then, they were hollow, and empty, and devoid of emotion.

Shadow was only half here, but he was dead inside, and the realization made Vio die inside too, because Shadow was the best brother he'd ever had, better than innocent, optimistic Red, or aggressive Blue, or even understanding Green, the leader. And when Shadow finally died outside too, just three months after he'd been alive again, Vio died inside all the way.

The others had no idea what to do with him. He went from being with them at dinner, still having the slightly sarcastic and laid-back attitude, to rarely leaving the now-empty room where Shadow once was, drawing the dividing curtains all the way across and shielding himself from the view of the others when they visited. He never responded to their questions, or pleas to come out and eat dinner together, or anything, ever, and he was just an empty shell.

It was Green who found out first.

He was finished on another rant about the state of the castle, and Zelda, and Red and Blue and himself, and the sun was shining through the window, lighting up the curtains and creating shadows on Green's side of the wall. And then he saw something wrong with the shadows, not the figure sitting silently on a bed like he should have...

But the shadow of a figure hanging from their neck on a rope suspended from the ceiling, feet dangling in the air.

And then there was panic, and it was all blurry, even now, and he was screaming, and he never screamed, and he was running, running away from the truly empty shell that was once Vio, and he was bursting into Zelda's study, and he was looking at their expressions, and he was sitting in the corner of the study crying, and he never cried, and Red was bawling, and Blue looked about to smash a window, and Zelda was gone, and the world was falling, and Vio was dead oh gods he was dead he wasn't coming back was he he's dead Vio's dead and-

And then it came back together, and Red was why, and they were okay again, as okay as they could be without their wisest, most damaged part.

-;-;-;-;-

Green tore his eyes away from the mirror, and those gray-blue eyes that were so like the one who had died so many nights ago. There was a saying in Hyrule, that the loneliest people were kindest, the saddest people smile the brightest, and the most damaged people are the wisest, all so that they don't have to see people suffer the way they do.

Green smiled bitterly at the irony of that statement. If anything, they had ended up making the ones around them more broken, sad, damaged, and lonely than before. He knew that for a fact now.

As he looked around at the broken pieces of mirror that littered the ground at his feet, he was reminded strongly of the broken pieces of his heart, and the person who had so strongly cracked it.

-;-;-;-;-

It was the one of them they least expected that fell next... The most innocent, and happy of them.

Though truly, he was anything but happy. Red kept up a very good façade for a long while, fooling even Blue, who he was best friends with. He had consoled them after Vio with hugs and words of comfort, saying that Vio was fine wherever he was, and they were fine, and the Kingdom was fine, and _everything was fine._

But even as he did so, Red's mind and body and heart and soul, especially that huge heart of his, were all internally screaming at him to not lie, because Vio wasn't fine, he was dead, and the Kingdom wasn't fine, they had lost a hero, and they most definitely weren't fine, Red was dying in grief and guilt inside, they most definitely _were not fine._

Red felt the most guilt for Vio's situation. He was the happy, understanding, empathetic, comforting, friendly Link. Vio had cut himself off from the world, and if Red knew anything about his friend, it was that, though on the outside he didn't want to let anyone in, his insides had been screaming, pleading at every passing person, to please please _please_ reach out farther, pull back the curtains, please stop me from tying this rope please stop me from killing myself please stop, please make the pain stop, please please _please_ help me-

But Red hadn't.

Red had sat there, on the other side of those stupid, stupid, _stupid_ cream-colored curtains, talking empty words and saying empty pleas for the silent Link to come out and play, come out and sit with them, come out and do _something_ , and in truth it was him who should have done that something, him who should have reached out a hand and pulled back those curtains, and sat next to him, and let him know that there were still people out there who cared, and would never forgive him if he tied that rope and kicked away that footstool.

And so, much like Vio did, Red died on the inside, but it wasn't in the same places as his predecessor. Vio's mind had first left, not able to keep up with the stream of sadness flowing through him. Then it was his soul, and his heart was the only internal thing that tried protesting against the madness and depression he was sinking into, but even that failed, for Vio had a weak heart, and was incapable of holding on to his brothers.

Red's was opposite. His heart shattered instantly, the moment Green had told them that Vio was dead, it had shattered from the immeasurable grief and blame he put on himself. Soon after, his mind was torn apart, unable to keep up with the lies he so willingly fed to himself and others, trying to restore happiness to an evidently broken group.

And it was Red's soul that clung to life, told him to not leave, that these people needed someone to comfort them. But he shut himself off anyways, became even more lonely than he had ever been in his life.

And he shut himself in his room, much like Vio, but he let the people come in and talk to him. He let Green joke about whatever was on his mind, but his laughter was hollow. He let Blue confess to him all his worries, and he consoled him like he always had, with hugs and now-empty words of comfort that were once truly sincere. He let Zelda come in when she had the time and sit next to him in silence, rubbing the back of his hand or his back in a soft gesture that spoke, 'We are here for you, if you ever need us.' But they all had to leave eventually.

Red realized, soon enough, he was going to have to leave eventually as well, in more ways than one. And that was why he found himself in the kitchen, late at night, in the soft blue moonlight, holding a glittering knife to his chest. He said internal apologies to all his friends, hoped that they heard them in spirit, and then the knife shot forward, and then his heart, his shattered, happy heart, that was once so full of life and love, stopped beating.

It was Blue who found the note lying on Red's nightstand. The handwriting was wavy, as if his hand were shaking, and wet spots dotted the paper every inch or so from the boy's tears.

 _Guys,_

 _I'm sorry. I really am. But I just can't live with myself anymore._

 _You might not know, but it's my fault that Vio died. I should have helped him. But I didn't, and we all paid the price. Now one of us is gone..._

 _I know you guys need me to be there and comfort you. But I can't comfort myself anymore. I can't make myself believe we'll all be okay, and so I'm leaving. All of you eventually left my room when you visited, didn't you? I've also left my room, but I'm going to leave the world too._

 _Zelda - You'll be a great ruler someday. Please keep smiling for me._

 _Green - I'm sure that in a couple years, Hyrule will have a perfect Knight Captain. Please, don't ever give up._

 _Blue - Sorry, bro. I left without a goodbye. But keep on being that smiling, headstrong guy I know - I'll be watching. You were my best friend. I'll miss you._

 _If you ever need to find me, I'll be in the kitchen._

 _Love and Regrets,_

 _Red_

Blue read the note over and over and over again, not wanting to believe it. No, it couldn't be real. Strong, pure, happy Red would never, he wouldn't.

Would he?

The note was dropped to the floor, the wavy handwriting still glittering in the rising sunlight. Even as it fluttered to the floor, Blue was leaving the room, heart pounding in his ears, feet pounding on the carpet, hands hitting the wall as he skidded around corners, breath uneven and panting, choking out through tears (he never cried, he couldn't cry, he _couldn't cry_ ) for Zelda and Green, running down stone stairs to the kitchen, slipping in a pile of crimson on the floor.

And then he saw the source of the crimson substance on the ground, and he was on the floor, and there was a hole in his chest, and a knife was sitting in his hand, and it was still glittering in silver and red, and Blue was on the ground, sobbing for the first time in his life, and Red's eyes were still open, and they were clouded over in death mist, and the sparkling sky-blue he knew so well was gone, and it was replaced with dull lifeless gray, and his hands were sticky with his friend's blood, and Zelda was gasping, and Green was dropping to his knees in shock, and Blue was the one bawling this time, and Red, and Red was dead he was dead oh gods he wasn't coming back was he dead he was dead and-

And Zelda had pulled him away from Red's body, and told him that he was safe with Vio, and that they were fine, and Red was fine, and she was fine and _everything was fine._

But this time, this time, Blue knew for a fact that the words were empty.

-;-;-;-;-

Green pulled his gaze away from the shattered pieces of his heart and to the frame of the glass decoration, still on the bedpost, half of it jutting out into the room and one half on the bed. Pieces of reflective metal still clung to the edges of it, cracked beyond repair. That frame was painted. It was painted blue.

But it couldn't have been a simple, robin's-egg blue, or a dark navy, or even sky blue. Instead, it was painted pure blue, the same color as his eyes had once been.

Green scowled at it. Then he sat back down on the bed, holding back sudden tears, as he was reminded of the last to leave.

-;-;-;-;-

Blue had been different in his ways of leaving.

For all his talk and skill, Blue was a coward. He was perfect in combat and physical strain, but internally he struggled, almost all the time.

Red's passing was his final straw. Heart, soul and mind all shattered at once, and he couldn't even start to realize what Red's death meant until much later on.

What it meant was a great deal of emotional stress. Blue had had someone to talk with before, someone who could somehow understand everything going on in his life from the way he sighed. All his stresses had been talked through and resolved along with the empathetic Red Link, but now he was gone, and Blue had to deal with these problems himself.

Ironically, most of them came from Red himself. And Blue found his own way to deal with these problems stressing what was left of his mind. It was barbaric, and not good for himself, but he didn't care, because he needed to somehow get rid of these internal conflicts.

So, every day, Blue would leave the castle before dawn with his sword, looking clean and healthy. And he would return after the sun set with a red stained sword, and red stained hands, and hair and clothes matted with dirt and sweat, and a crazed look in his eyes.

Green would leave him to his own devices, but he would always wait for the bloodstained hands of the last Link alive to open the castle doors, and he would always stay with him until he reached his room that used to be Red's and closed the door to change.

Green noticed things changing about Blue. Before, he had been naturally headstrong and courageous, and smiling in that stupid, lopsided grin he always wore. But nowadays, those qualities seemed to be forced. It was as if he was only being sarcastic and headstrong because he _had_ to, and not because he simply _was._ On the occasional day Blue didn't go out to kill monsters plaguing Hyrule, he would sit in the corner of the kitchen that no one ever went to anymore, and in the kitchen that no one used because it told them silent tales of a hero with a tunic red as the blood that spilled from his chest, and he would whisper all his problems out, and whenever Green went down to fetch him for lunch or dinner, he was sitting in that corner, staring with unseeing eyes at the one spot in the floor where his best friend had spent his final moments. And when Green helped him up, he noticed that he didn't even try to hold back his tears anymore.

Blue was gone now, Green had realized. This broken, sad excuse of the Link he once knew was all that remained.

And that was why he shouldn't have been surprised when, one day, he never came back inside.

He was standing in the carpeted halls. He heard his footsteps on the marble stairs outside. They were slow, defeated. There was a pause... then a small, single, resolute _thunk_ of an object being stabbed into wood, and then the footsteps left the stairs at a frantic, erratic run.

Green panicked, and he was standing up, and he tripping, and he was opening up the doors, and he could see a small, blue-clad form still sprinting across Hyrule Field, smaller and smaller, never to return, and then he was screaming, screaming out Blue, Blue, don't you dare run off, what happened to Blue, he'd never do this, why are you running, and then he was on his knees, and then he was turning around, and tears were streaming down his face, and there was a white object in the door, and it was a golden-hilted sword with a blue gem in the hilt, and there was a note, and he was picking it up, and he was screaming again, screaming himself hoarse, and Zelda was there, and she was crying too, and his world had finally shattered for good, and all the could do was read the note over and over again, those hastily scrawled words that melted and destroyed him all at once-

 _I'm sorry. I've got to go, for my own sake as well as yours. Live for me, Green, live for all of us, because we're all dead. You were a great leader. I'm sorry I never had the courage to tell you. I'll make sure to remind Vio and Red who they live on in now. You're our only tie to this life. Use yours well._

 _See you later._

 _-Blue_

-;-;-;-;-

Green wiped the tears from his face. He swept his cold, gray-blue eyes over the room once more, before standing and picking up the shards of glass stranded on the floor. He didn't look into any of them, because he knew that that would start his pain cycle all over again, and as much as he wanted to end it, what all three of them said was true.

He'd found Vio's journal a few days ago. In it, he'd written an apology to each of them, telling Green especially to carry on his legacy, because he no longer had the willpower to. Red's note had included a plea to never give up. Blue's written reminder asked him to live for all of them. And he knew he had to.

He was all that they had to be tied to this life. They were all gone.

He had to be strong, he couldn't give up, and he couldn't let them be forgotten.

No matter how much it broke him, he couldn't let them be forgotten.

He gave another grim smile as he threw the hundred-odd glass shards out the window. No... No, they wouldn't be forgotten. He would make sure. But first, he had to go practice his swordplay, and write in Vio's old journal, and talk out his problems to the stain on the floor in the kitchen nobody used anymore.

Green didn't hate mirrors, he realized.

He hated reflections.

He hated reflections, because he had too much to reflect upon.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm sorry.**

 **-TheZeldakid101-**


End file.
